


"goodbye" like a broken promise

by the_nerd_youre_looking_for



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Suicidal Thoughts, The Magnus Archives Season 3, also tim's statement in 117, author lightly projects his own sibling relationship, every day i am consumed with Martin And Tim Being Friends, post-117 pre-118, tim also has survivor's guilt and pre-survivor's guilt, tim is sad as per usual, tim refuses to process grief and thats a problem, what a guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25002991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_nerd_youre_looking_for/pseuds/the_nerd_youre_looking_for
Summary: "...I don’t expect I’m going to be coming back from this. I don’t know if I want to"Tim says some goodbyes and has some thoughts on the Unknowing and other such related topics.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Tim Stoker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	"goodbye" like a broken promise

**Author's Note:**

> The urge to write this came at 1am and smacked me full force in the face, however I did wait until a reasonable hour before actually starting it because there's no way I was getting a good title at 1am
> 
> Also uh sorry for the scene-skipping junk, I'm just an artsy dude who had 2 many things he wanted to write

As far as Tim was concerned, having to give a _statement_ of all things before their big road trip of doom was one of the most annoying ideas Jon has ever had.

That's a separate list from "most infuriating ideas" and "stupidest ideas", both of which are fairly long at this point. 

He wasn't a feelings guy. Jon ought to just know that about him, freaky powers notwithstanding. Tim was the type of guy to hold it in until it blew up, which was sort of what he'd been doing a lot recently. But whatever, whatever, if Jon wanted him to rant into his tape recorder so he could listen back to it and analyze it half to death, fine. He'd do that. Whatever. Only about ten minutes loss on his part and he wasn't even planning on doing anything in those ten minutes. And he hopes Jon listens to the tapes back at his sad little flat or wherever he lives. Because he meant what he said in his statement, every word of it. 

Better people would've said something like "I'll die for the cause but not if I can avoid it". Tim is not better people. The problem isn't that he isn't willing to die for it if need be, the problem is he might be a bit too enthusiastic at the prospect. He knows that some or all of their gang probably won't make it back. He knows that includes him, even hopes, as depressing as that sounds. It wouldn't feel right to walk out of it alive and well. Not after Danny. It wouldn't sit right with him. So maybe he does hope he gets killed, so what? It's not like many Institute people would miss him much. And what better way to go out? Truly a departure of epic proportions. Unless he dies doing something stupid like tripping and falling on his ax. Not only would that kill the mood, he would definitely have to survive it if only to be spared the humiliation of _that_ being how he went out.

_____

It's awkward putting together a goodbye to Melanie, not in the least because they hardly know each other.

"Well." She said, glancing at the ground. "Big day for us all, huh?"

Tim nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, big day." Well, late evening, but still. "I'm sure you'll have fun committing a felony."

That gets at least a small smile out of Melanie. "I'm not even doing most of it, just some snooping around the big man's office. You guys are the one doing some big crimes." 

"All for the greater good, Felony-Melanie." Tim nods to himself. "That's your new nickname. Courtesy of me and my incredible sense of humor."

"No, that's awful!" She's still smiling as she says this, even though it doesn't go all the way to her eyes. "Now I need to think of something terrible to call you. As revenge." 

"Good luck with that, my name is nickname-proof." And with the small amount of casual banter Tim had managed to drum up gone, the awkward weight came back between the two of them. They stood in silence for a second before Melanie cleared her throat.

"Well, I'll think on it." She said. "I'll be seeing you around then."

Tim nodded stiffly. "Yeah," he replied. "I'll chop up a spooky wax figure for you." 

She nodded back, gave a polite smile, and then headed off to wherever Basira was. Probably double-checking the Google Map route or something.

Tim let out a slow breath. Partly relief, partly something else. He kept telling himself he would feel weird if they all _didn't_ stay after hours to say quick goodbyes and stuff, but that doesn't make it less weird that he is doing it. He's never been a feelings person. Either way, it is a damn shame to come up with such a horrible nickname and never really get to use it more than once. He supposes he ought to update his will to say he wants people to use that nickname, but that's probably not a thing a person can do on the fly. 

_____

It isn't that Tim forgot about Danny, or even tried to. He isn't that shitty of a brother. It's more like he did his best to just not think about it very often. All it did was hurt all over when he thinks about what that clown had done to his baby brother...so it's best to just keep it out of mind. Focus on the job, the gym, whatever mindless activity he was doing before he went to sleep. If he really worked his magic, he could manage to keep it out of mind when he was reading up on circus history or doing research into Russian carnivals. 

But that night, head against the window, watching streetlights fly by, Danny was practically the only thing on his mind. And it hurt. And he was angry. So angry he felt like he might honestly burst into flames. So he did his best to not burst into tears while Daisy and Basira bickered over the music.

"It's my car and I'm driving." Daisy said for the fiftieth time, probably. "So I'm going to play the music I want and I want to listen to ABBA."

"Just doesn't fit the mood though." Basira muttered, though she sounded close to giving it up. "I'm not exactly inspired to blow up some clowns."

"Actually, Dancing Queen by ABBA is my go-to song when I want to blow up clowns." Tim deadpanned, not even sparing a glance up at the two. Daisy made a very smug noise, Basira sighed out "fine", and ABBA stayed on. And the conversation died.

He could feel Jon looking at him. And also see him staring in the reflection in the window. Tim wasn't going to look back. Of course, Basira had to call shotgun so they'd be stuck in the back together. He didn't know if Jon was staring just to be creepy or if he wanted to talk or what. And Tim was in no mood to talk to Jon, not when Danny was so heavy in his mind.

It would feel wrong to come out of it alive, Tim decided. To survive the things that killed his brother not once, but twice. It would feel wrong somehow. Disrespectful. Like Danny would be annoyed he had to die to the fucked-up clowns and his brother got to survive them. Twice. Is that something people got annoyed by? Tim was sure he wouldn't be upset about it if the roles were reversed, but he'd gotten used to Danny being better than him at pretty much anything. Surviving evil clowns wouldn't be the first time. 

But the roles weren't reversed. And Danny was dead. And thinking that with certainty made a knot twist hard in Tim's throat and he had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to keep from letting out a _very_ undignified sob. Jon is still staring and the hurt is replaced by a fury as he realizes that the bastard might've been reading his mind or whatever freaky shit he could do. So he finally does look back at Jon via the reflection and glares at him with as much fire as he can muster (which is usually a lot these days). He gets the message, it seems, and turns to face his own window. 

The music does nothing to ease the silence in that car.

_____

Saying goodbye to Elias was quick, thankfully. It was hardly memorable and Tim honestly couldn't care less to remember it. Probably the standard "good luck saving the world and exploding a wax museum" type stuff.

And then was someone Tim was truly dreading. Martin. And it wasn't that he didn't like Martin, that was the exact opposite of his problem. Maybe if he didn't really care for Martin that much then it would be easier to orchestrate what he thought might be their last conversation. Maybe he would be able to leave it short and awkward like he did with Melanie. But that wouldn't be fair to the poor guy, a proper friend deserves a proper last chat.

So, he did his usual bit. "Well Martini," He sighed, slinging an arm around the other's shoulder. "We're really in it now."

Martin snorted and pushed Tim off of him (gently, he's always so _damn_ gentle all the time). "I guess we are." He said. "You all better not die or I'll kill you." 

"Oh please, you're the one stuck with Mr. Creep all night." Tim jerks a thumb at Elias, who is talking at a very uncomfortable looking Jon. "We all got the easy job."

"Of course. I'll be doing a bit of light arson and you lot only have to break and enter into public building to explode a creepy supernatural circus ritual." Martin smiled but only for a moment before it dropped into his typical anxious expression. "But I'm being serious, _please_ be careful. I just don't want..." He left it hanging, but the gap could easily be filled.

"....yeah. I get it." Tim shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets and tried for a smile. It didn't quite work out. "Don't worry about us, Martini. We've got this. And you're going to owe me big time for saving the world."

That at least eased some of the nervous creases in Martin's face. "Save the world first, then we'll see. If if not, you owe me big time." 

And it's like that for the next few minutes, all easy conversation and some casual affection and Tim nearly forgets what's going on. He's been angry with Martin too, a bit. He didn't really want to be, he liked Martin. But all Martin seemed to want was for everything to go back to normal, whatever that was up in his head, for everything to naturally stop being so tense and sharp and so that they can all just get along like good pals. It was so unrealistic and _infuriating_ that Tim had hated him too, just a little. He didn't really want to. And because he didn't really want to, it was easier to ignore the way his blood ran fire when Martin lamented about how much people were _arguing_ in the archives these days. Just nod along or say something snippy, if he was already in a testy mood. But Martin was nice and all, so he didn't really want to make him upset. Maybe upset him enough to make him see that things were not going back to the way it'd been before, but that was just when he was lit alight with hate all over and it made him mean. Mean enough to want to hurt his friends (but he didn't ever really want to, he just thought he did). He couldn't stand to lose the one person in that terrible place that could actually tolerate being with him. 

However, their few minutes ended when Daisy honked the horn of her beat-up SUV repeatedly, which meant she wanted them to get a move on. Tim rolled his eyes and Marin laughed at it.

"When she gets in there, I think the wax people will just run." Martin is smiling, properly now. So Tim can't help but properly smile back.

"Best-case scenario." He jokes, and gives a small salute as he walks off. "See you later, you crazy man!" 

"Right back at you!" Martin calls after him. And that was that.

_____

Tim honestly does not think there are many people at the Institute who would actually miss him.

Martin would, maybe. But he's busy fussing over Jon or trying to make friends with any of the newcomers and Tim is usually left to his own devices. So Martin has already been established to have better things to do.

Melanie...well. They don't really know each other. He doesn't really know Daisy or Basira either. Neither of them seem to like him much, but they seem to dislike nearly everyone on principle so Tim doesn't think he's all too special in that regard. 

He doesn't even care about Elias's opinion, although he probably could not give the slightest shit about any of his employees.

And Jon....well, he doesn't care about Jon's opinion either. Or maybe he does and he just doesn't want to, but he isn't going to think about that. But Jon hates him anyway so it would probably be lovely for him if Tim was gone. 

So no. No one that he knows over at the Institute would actually miss him much. And that's fine by him. It leaves guilt out of his sort-of-death-wish, but it does add a cold weight on his heart. 

_____

If the drive was horrible, then the stay at the motel was actually Hell.

Of course he'd had to share a room with Jon, of all people. It made sense, it really did. Daisy and Basira knew each other better and he and Jon knew each other better. Plus something about girls getting one room and boys getting the other. Whatever. The logic was there. But that didn't stop it from being awful. For one, Jon tried to make conversation with him for about five minutes before giving up. Tim couldn't decide on which was worse: the awkward half-talking they did or the awkward silence. At least they decided to just go to sleep, so there wasn't much of either. 

Jon had passed out nearly the second he hit the bed. Tim had seen him passed out too many times at his desk, so he could tell that he was actually asleep. And that was _so good_ because there was just too much going on and he had the point where he needed to just blow up for a solid hour. Tim shoved the musty-smelling pillow over his face and cried. He only let himself have small, choked-off sobs and silent tears. No need to wake up Jon and have to sit through a horrible conversation about emotions or something. 

All he could think about was Danny. His smile, his laugh, how they argued over silly things, how his eyes lit up when he discovered a new passion, the times he bragged just a little to try and get a rise out of Tim, how that would never work because Tim could never be angry at his brother for being successful, the sound of his voice.

That last time he saw his brother. How he'd come back to Tim's after escaping the Stranger, how he'd cried for possibly the first time in front of Tim, how long it took him to fall asleep on the couch. The obsessive drawings of Grimaldi, a name he was too familiar with these days. The way that _thing_ had worn his skin. It kept replaying in his mind, like his subconscious reminding him of why he was doing this. Any of this. Why he'd started work at the Magnus Institute even. Tim had _liked_ publishing. He really had. But it wasn't important after Danny died, nothing had been. The only thing that had mattered (that _still_ mattered) was finding out what the hell happened to his brother and how to kill the things that had killed him. He'd gotten less serious about it for a while, if only because he'd figured out he wasn't going to learn anything. And because he was doing better. Making friends, getting into hobbies again. Things like that. 

But it didn't last, of course it didn't. And that's why he was _here_ , crying into a gross motel pillow over something he usually kept far from his mind. Maybe it was because he was so close to his goal. And maybe that was why he didn't really want to come back. Because now, after everything, what was he without his anger? Once his revenge had been had? He wouldn't know what to do with himself, really. For a fair while now, that's all he'd been focused on. He wouldn't know how to go back to how he used to be, wouldn't know what to do with himself. 

Tim stopped crying after about five minutes. He couldn't be sure. The pillow stayed where it was for another minute, trying to collect himself and calm down a bit. Then, he stared at the ceiling, trying to think about nothing. One thing was clear. He wasn't going to be sleeping tonight. 

**Author's Note:**

> I think every day abt Tim being friends with these people, especially Martin since I think a good amount of people kinda gloss over the fact that they Probably Were Good Pals
> 
> If Daisy listens to The Archers, she can listen to ABBA


End file.
